


through the stains and through the cracks

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-23
Updated: 2012-08-23
Packaged: 2017-11-12 16:53:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/493549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She wonders, then, as she stands in the darkened hallway of her mansion, what it means that she’s about to step into a bedroom that does not belong to her husband.</p>
            </blockquote>





	through the stains and through the cracks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bgrrl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bgrrl/gifts).



> This is my first HP fic, and it didn't come out quite as dark as I intended. I hope it pleases you, bgrrl!
> 
> Title is from Thompson Square's "Glass." Lots of love to my wonderful beta, [redacted] for looking this over.

Despite what some people might think of her, Narcissa knows love. She loved her mother and father, stern and remote as they were. She loves Draco with everything she is, and she loves Lucius, and though she wants to blame all of this on him, she can’t. She even loved her sisters, once upon a time. But that was before Andromeda married and became anathema to the Black family, and before Bellatrix... Well. Before Bellatrix became this terrifying reflection of herself. She may not be the most demonstrative of people, Merlin knows, but she has a heart.

She wonders, then, as she stands in the darkened hallway of her mansion, what it means that she’s about to step into a bedroom that does not belong to her husband.

It isn’t locked, so she walks in and closes it softly behind her. The snick of the lock sliding home is loud in the near-silent room, and she flinches just slightly, her hand still inches from the key. The knowledge that he has his wand while she is wandless--for all intents and purposes, defenseless--causes her breath to catch in a way that’s not wholly fear nor wholly lust, but a perverse mixture of the two.

Severus is sitting in one of the two armchairs in front of the fire, his wand in one hand and a cut crystal tumbler in the other. A decanter of Lucius’s best Firewhiskey and a matching glass sit on the table beside him. Still silent, she steps in front of him and pours a measure into the empty tumbler. She waits until she’s settled herself into the armchair opposite him to take a sip; the liquor is cool but burns as she swallows, leaching warmth into her limbs.

They sit in not-quite comfortable silence for long minutes, and Narcissa takes the time to study Severus. His hair has gotten too long, longer even than he usually wears it, in the weeks since Dumbledore’s death. His skin, always sallow and pale, looks even more wax-like in the flickering firelight, but the set of his mouth is still strong. He’s wearing black dress trousers and a Muggle dress shirt, his discarded robe hanging over the back of another chair. These past months have been hard on everyone--Merlin knows, they have been worse for her family than most--but Severus always seemed to bear the weight more easily than the rest of them.

The Firewhiskey has loosened her tongue and her inhibitions. She stands and closes the short distance between them and reaches out to brush a strand of dark hair from his face. “Severus,” she murmurs, before sinking to her knees on the carpet. “I want you.” She presses her cheek against his thigh, feeling the warmth and wiry strength of him beneath his trousers. He traces the curve of her skull before tangling his fingers in her loose hair. She gasps as he tightens his grip to just this side of painful. “Severus,” she whimpers, louder this time, and he tugs her head back so she’s forced to look at him.

“Narcissa,” he hisses, half-curse, half-plea. Eyes not leaving his, she reaches for the the fastenings on his trousers, fumbling a little as she undoes them. He winces as she reaches into his pants to wrap her fingers around his half-hard shaft, his grip on her hair growing even tighter. Almost immediately, he releases her, instead cupping her head gently. “Narcissa,” he repeats, his voice lower and softer this time. She twists her wrist and smiles up at him, coaxing him to hardness with a few slow tugs.

His exhale is loud in the near-silent room when she takes the head into her mouth, and Narcissa smiles. She knows the remnants of the Firewhiskey will make this more intense for him, and she intends to take full advantage. She squeezes the base of his cock with one hand, and tugs at the waistband of his trousers with the other, until he bucks up slightly, letting her pull them down. Now with free access, she cups his balls, rolling them gently in her fingers and bobs her head until the head is nudging the back of her throat. She holds it there until she’s near to gagging, pulling back only when she feels the prick of tears.

It’s a strange sort of power, to be on your knees, she thinks, as she traces the vein on the underside of Severus’s prick with her tongue. His fingers scrabble for purchase on the arms of the chair when she takes him to the root, sucking hard. “Narcissa,” he whimpers, his control nearly shattered. “Stop.” It isn’t a command, not here, not now. She considers sucking him until he comes, continuing on like she hadn’t heard, but instead Narcissa pulls off, letting his cock fall from her wet mouth as she sits back on her heels and looks up at him. “Bed,” he growls, as if he knew she’d hesitate over obeying him. Perhaps, she muses, he did. 

She moves back and climbs to her feet, gasping as her knees protest the sudden change in position. Suddenly, Severus is there, his hand on her elbow. She leans into him for just a moment, until she regains her balance. “Thank you,” she murmurs, and he smirks at her, though the expression feels less mocking than usual.

They make it to the bed without any further incident, and he places his wand on the bedside table quietly. Narcissa moves to undo her robe, but he stops her. His hands are oddly gentle as he slides the fabric off her shoulders and down her arms, until it pools on the floor at her feet. She’s wearing a plain white bra and matching pants, and Severus’ gaze on her is too warm for comfort. She looks away.

“I am making you uncomfortable.” It isn’t a question, so she doesn’t answer. When she turns back to him, he’s shucked his trousers and pants, already partially undone from before, and is in the process of unbuttoning his shirt. In response, she strips naked and climbs onto the bed.

He follows soon after, and their momentary awkwardness is quickly forgotten in the slide of skin on skin. He kneels between her thighs, spreading her open with long, slender fingers. Narcissa gasps at the first touch of Severus’s tongue against her cunt, licking a long line from from bottom to top. He nips gently at her folds as he presses his fingers inside her, fucking her slowly as he lavishes attention to her clit. They’ve done this enough times that he knows how she likes it, and within moments, she’s panting her way to climax.

He climbs up her body and presses his face into her shoulder and his cock into her wet pussy. Narcissa whines a little at the stretch; Severus is thicker than Lucius, and it’s almost too much as he eases in. He bottoms out inside her and pauses, his breath hot on her shoulder. After a moment, she adjusts, and she twines her fingers in his lanky hair and jerks her hips; he takes it as the permission it is and starts fucking her in earnest. 

Narcissa spreads her thighs a little wider and tilts her hips just a bit, until he’s rubbing against her clit with each thrust; still sensitive from her earlier orgasm, she’s on the brink again soon enough. She clutches at his shoulders, digging her nails into his sweaty skin as her climax builds. She can feel the twitching of his muscles that signal he’s close too, so he lets go of one shoulder and reaches between them. She fingers herself, once, twice, three times, and then she’s coming hard, whining out his name. His thrusts stutter to a stop, and she can feel his cock pulsing inside her as he comes too.

He collapses on top of her, his face still turned away. She sighs and flattens her palms against his shoulders, not pushing him away or holding him close, just... touching. He sighs into the pillow. With a muttered oath, he withdraws from her and turns over onto his back. Their arms are touching as the sweat and come cool on their skin, and for a moment, Narcissa thinks of kissing him. She pictures it: sliding her fingers down his arm to circle his wrist, using his weight as leverage to pull herself up until she was straddling him, and licking her way lazily into his mouth. His hands would come to bracket her hips, his spent cock soft between them as they kiss.

Instead, she sighs and sits up slowly. Severus looks at her, his gaze dropping to her spread thighs, where she is still sticky and red. He reaches for his wand and mumbles “Scourgify,” and she and the sheets are clean. She dresses in silence, while he lies on the bed, watching her under slitted lids.

She hesitates at the door, glancing back at him over her shoulder. He’s still naked, reclining on the green coverlet. His black hair is plastered to his head with sweat, and a flush of exertion colors his usually too-pale skin. She bites her bottom lip, clenching her hands into fists. “If...” She stops to take a deep breath. “If I come back, will the door be locked?” she asks, her voice surprisingly steady.

He doesn’t answer for a moment, and Narcissa is afraid for a moment that she’s overstepped the boundaries of whatever this is. Finally, he smiles, and for once there’s not a trace of mockery in the expression. “Perhaps.” She turns away. “You should get a new wand, Narcissa. Then you’d be able to enter whenever you like.”

“And where would be the fun in that, Severus?” she asks, her hand on the doorknob. His laughter follows her into the hall and back to her own bedroom, where Lucius is sleeping soundly in their bed.


End file.
